SPN Movie Verse Pt 5: Lastday
by Blue-Five
Summary: Logan's Run AU - Dean 5 and Sam 9 are Sandmen. Castiel 7 is a Runner. Who will survive the future? (Dean/Castiel)


**DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Logan's Run universes. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

* * *

The petals of the Flower are three and they delineate a life in the palm of a hand.

First breath to tenth year is childhood – the petals are sunshine yellow in a world with no sun.

Eleventh to twentieth year marks life's median – the petals are the blue of a sky no one remembers.

Twenty-first to thirtieth year are adulthood – the petals are red as the blood of a man.

Lastday – the petals fall dark one by one until all are black as Death.

The petals of the Flower are three and they delineate a life in the palm of a hand.

* * *

Dean 5 looked down at the small form lying in the Nursery cradle. The identification plate designated the infant boy as **_Dean 6 – Occupation: Sandman_**. Dean grinned. Barely months old and this new being was already assured of his place in society. Tiny hands waved in the air and little feet kicked with amused giggles as Dean made faces through the observation glass. His own DNA had been used to create this new life. Because he was a Sandman, he was allowed to choose the seed mother. Dean had chosen a woman named Cassie 4. She was a Speaker – she broadcast news for the entire city. It was a prestigious position and it had been one of her evening broadcasts that brought her to Dean's attention. Her looks hardly mattered since New You could easily alter anything about a person, but her broadcasts were always concise and intelligent. They'd spent a very enjoyable night together and now, months later, Dean 6 had emerged into the world. A world under the domes housing all he would ever need in his life – sustenance, safety and every physical pleasure imaginable.

"Dean!" A familiar voice caught his attention and Dean looked up to see his partner walking down the hallway.

In a strange twist of circumstances, Sam 9 was not only Dean's partner, he was his brother. Their father, John 2, had been a Sandman as well. He'd chosen the same seed mother for his offspring and because of his impressive record for Runner termination, he'd been allowed the indulgence. Mary 3 had been their mother.

No one outside of the Sandman ranks knew their own parents. It was considered almost obscene but Sandmen were different – they needed to produce the best physical blending possible to ensure successful hunts.

Sam chuckled.

"You know, I didn't believe Balthazar when he said you were down here ... _again_."

Dean shrugged. "It's not every day they authorize a new Sandman, Sammy. He's gonna be even better than John 2, you wait and see."

"I _won't_ wait and see because I'll have gone black by then, jerk," Sam said with a roll of his eyes.

"Whatever, bitch, he'll be the best they've ever had," Dean said with another grin. "Aww, he went back to sleep."

Sam pulled his weapon and tapped it hard against the observation pane, startling the infant awake and setting off an alarm. Dean jumped and then glared at his brother.

"Great, now you did it," Dean groused.

Sam was laughing as the familiar voice of the city Guardian spoke to them.

***SCANNERS REPORT INTRUSION. IDENTIFY.***

"Dean 5, Samuel 9 – authorized duty quadrant," Dean recited. He leveled another glare at his younger brother who was still shaking with laughter. "Intrusion was ... accidental."

***CLEAR, DEAN 5. CLEAR, SAMUEL 9.***

"Alright, Sammy ... let's go," Dean said with a last glance at the tiny little boy who lay crying and waving a small hand with a three-petaled flower in the center of the palm. It was bright yellow.

* * *

Dean and Sam took a tube car to Arcade. Tonight was a Choosing ceremony for those who were on Lastday. As they disembarked, Sam looked over at his brother.

"Dean, you need to stop hanging around Nursery so much," Sam warned. "Only Runners do that."

"Oh stop it, Sammy," Dean said, annoyed. "I'm no Runner and you know it. I just wanted to see him. He's a handsome little cuss – just like me."

"Guardian help us if he's got your ego," Sam said.

"Hey, I can't help it if I'm awesome at everything I do!" Dean protested.

"Yeah, that's why you broke your leg jumping over the balcony after that Runner last month," Sam said with a laugh.

"I misjudged the landing," Dean said.

"Oh was _that_ it," Sam replied sarcastically. "Anyway, there'll be new Sandmen tomorrow."

"And how do you know that, Sammy?"

"There are two of our guys going through ceremony tonight – you know Sandmen always get Chosen," Sam said confidently.

"Sam, there's a reason you can't see their faces – no one knows who gets Chosen and who doesn't," Dean said. "You just believe what we've all been taught – one for one."

"Well think about it, Dean – it only makes sense. One dies, one is born. One for one. Simple and logical," Sam explained.

Dean rolled his eyes. His brother should have been designated an Instructor – he could go on and on about anything.

"Whatever, Sammy – I just wonder about it sometimes."

The crowd milled around them, a rainbow of colors. Clothing matched designation. Dean and Sam wore black and gray to designate themselves as Sandmen. Children dressed in happy yellow ran around underfoot and those girls and boys in the middle years wore blue. Those in their adulthood wore red. Of course the colors came in every shade of the hue imaginable depending on the individual's taste and the latest style trends.

Except for Sandmen. From the time they were given occupation designations, Sandmen wore black. Until they were old enough to actually join the ranks, their chest stripe was whatever color their years designated. Dean could see a scattering of black with yellow chest stripes, racing around with other black clothed youths – Sandmen grew up with other Sandmen. Always apart from those they monitored. It was easier that way – it gave them a sense of being one of the elite and kept them from attaching to any one person. A Sandman couldn't afford to form attachments outside the ranks when he might have to hunt them down if they became Runners.

A pair of boisterous Reds ran directly into Sam and Dean had to put a restraining hand on his brother. Sam at his full height was intimidating.

"Easy, Sammy," Dean said. "You know that guy or something?"

"He's going to run, Dean. I know a Runner when I see one."

Dean sighed and decided to change the subject. "You ever going to pick _your_ seed mother?"

"Already have, not that it's any of your business," Sam said with a smirk.

"You dog! Who? It's the blonde, isn't it ... uh, what was her name? Jordan, Jennifer ..."

"It's Jessica 6 and you know it," Sam retorted.

"Yeah, yeah ... I figured she was it – you've been mooning over her for three months," Dean teased.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, jerk. You're the one making me nervous with all your visits to the Nursery and talk about stuff ... you wonder too much, Dean."

"Oh don't get yourself spun up, Sammy ... you'll burst a vein."

Walking with the crowd to the arena, Dean and Sam paused with everyone before a large representation of the Flower they each wore on their hands. The city Guardian's soft voice spoke.

***LASTDAY. YEAR OF THE CITY 2274. LET THE CHOOSING COMMENCE***

Dean glanced at his own red Flower out of habit. He had four more years. Then he would walk into the arena and hope to be Chosen for Renewal. Maybe Sam was right and Sandmen were always Chosen. Dean couldn't help but wonder.

* * *

Sitting around the center of the Arena, Dean watched as the stands filled. Sandmen were scattered throughout the audience. Dean looked around and nudged Sam.

"There's your girl, Sammy," Dean said, pointing.

A curvy blond looked across the arena and then waved. Sam blushed and returned the wave. He elbowed Dean hard.

"Thanks, jerk."

"You're welcome, bitch."

A low tone sounded and those not yet seated ran to find a spot. The lights dimmed and Dean felt the familiar shiver of anticipation run through him. The Guardian spoke.

***LAST DAY – THOSE BORN 2244. ENTER THE ARENA. THIS IS THE TIME OF CHOOSING.***

The audience erupted into cheers as those hoping to be Chosen for Renewal walked out into the area to stand around another representation of their Flower – except this one blinked red to black, black to red. Once all the individuals stood around the Flower, the petals went black. Dean shivered again. It was a stark reminder for everyone of Lastday and what that meant.

Those striving for Renewal wore white robes and masks. No one knew who stood before them. Not all who were on Lastday stood here – some simply opted for Sleep and were sent on their way painlessly, lives fulfilled. Dean did not intend to go so easily when his Lastday came.

***STEP FORWARD AND BE CHOSEN***

The Guardian's voice was followed by a brilliant white light spearing upwards from the center of the black petals. One of the applicants stepped forward slowly and then walked directly into the light where they vanished. One by one, the others followed. Three times during the ceremony, there was a flare of red signifying a Chosen one. The cheers when this happened were deafening.

A slight vibration against his hip drew Dean's attention away from the ceremony. He pulled out his comm-link and frowned down at the display.

**[Runner. Great Hall: Entrance West]**

Dean sighed. Never failed. He looked over at Sam who was still cheering and decided to let his partner and brother enjoy the rest of the ceremony. He moved quickly through the crowd and made his way out of the Arena into the main Hall of Arcade.

Glancing down at the tracker, Dean got his bearings and put it away. He looked over the empty Hall and then spotted the shadow he was looking for – Runner. Drawing his Gun, Dean looked for the best path to intercept when a hand landed on his shoulder.

Sam leapt back a foot when Dean came around with his weapon drawn. He started to laugh, but Dean silenced him with a frantic gesture. He pointed to the area he knew the Runner was hiding in and then motioned to indicate how they should flank him. Sam, ever the quick study, nodded and drew his own Gun. The brothers began doing what they did best – hunting.

Dean paused behind a support column and came around just as he heard the faint steps of the Runner. The man froze in front of him – he was well-built and looked like he could give them a good chase. Dean fired off a shot and the floor in front of the Runner exploded into shrapnel. The man ran back the way he came, but Sam intercepted him easily. Between the two of them, they herded the man onto a dead-end walkway. Dean chuckled.

"No where to run, Runner," He taunted.

Sam leaned lazily against a pillar. "Now what, Runner?"

The man looked between them and made a decision that was ultimately his last – he rushed them. Dean and Sam fired simultaneously and the Runner flew over the railing of the walkway and plummeted to the floor below. Dean sighed.

"Nice shot, Sammy," Dean said as he looked over the rail to the body below.

"Well you kept missing ... I had to do something," Sam teased with a shove to his brother's shoulder.

Dean shoved Sam back and pulled his comm-link out.

"Runner terminated, Great Hall. Prepping for clean-up," Dean reported.

Moving down to the body, Dean quickly arranged the limbs and checked the Runner's clothes for weapons and personal items. He pulled an odd-shaped charm from the Runner's hand and frowned at it before dropping it in his collection pouch. Pulling up the Runner's image, Dean frowned again.

"Request identity check."

**[Identity Affirmed. New You #483 Face Change]**

Dean nodded to himself. Runners often tried to change their appearance to help them escape. It was a useless tactic most times. He sighed and looked down at the body.

"Never understand it, Sammy ... he could have gone for the Choosing. Now he's just ... _gone_."

"I don't understand it either, Dean," Sam replied.

Dean 5 and Sam 9 turned away as the body of the unfortunate Runner was enzyme-dissolved behind them. By the time the Arena emptied out from the Choosing ceremony, there remained no trace of the man who had run rather than accept a fate decided for him by a three-petaled Flower.


End file.
